Phryne's Performance
by TwoPeonies
Summary: He set the glass onto the table, and bid his goodbye. Phryne watched him descend the stairs, a dissatisfied frown on her face. Perhaps this was the wrong approach to seducing Jack. AKA One failed attempt at seduction and one successful. (Now revised)


Jack had been ready to leave for home when a phone call had him rushing instead, to the residence of one Honorable Phryne Fisher.

"Jack," she had said. "You must come. There is something important I have to tell you."

"Very well," he replied, grabbing his coat and heading out the door. Jack wondered what was so important, his mind proposing various options. They weren't working on a murder, yet knowing Phryne, perhaps she had discovered one herself.

Mr. Butler greeted him at the door, all smiles and pleasantries. Nothing to do with the house at least, he thought to himself.

"Miss Fisher will see you upstairs."

Jack's eyebrows furrowed, but he didn't press the matter. A creeping suspicion told him that this was something Phryne didn't want the rest of the household knowing. The gramophone, playing rather loudly for this hour supported this theory. Yet, what a strange choice of song. Soft and melodic jazz.

He ascended the stairs slowly as to not bring attention to himself. The music grew louder, but not irritably so. He wondered whether she was dancing, her body swaying to the melody. He wouldn't think about it.

Jack approached the door to her boudoir, noticing that it was open, a crack just wide enough to look in. As his eyes wandered in, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh," he exclaimed, silenced by the music.

There was Phryne, lounging among the silk sheets and pillows, head thrown back, eyes closed. Jack swallowed hard at the sight. She wore nothing but a pale pink robe, strategically concealing only parts of her anatomy. Her skin, milky and smooth, glistened under the light of the table lamp. Jack shivered as his eyes followed the slender curve of her arm, her long manicured fingers stroking between her legs. His mind reeled, his body painfully tense. Should he interrupt? Just how appropriate was it for him to observe?

Blissfully unaware, Phryne continued her ministrations, quickening the pace of her nimble fingers. Her mouth was slightly opened, lips red and wet and inviting. She was the epitome of seduction, and Jack had fallen victim to her allure. More so than he'd ever want to admit. Even now, he could barely allow himself to look away. He watched as her spine curved, hand grasping at the sheets, her chest falling and rising rapidly with each hungry breath. Her other hand was still stroking, faster now, and he could see the muscles in her legs and abdomen contracting with pleasure. She moaned, a sound lost in the music. A sound he longed to hear.

Jack was completely undone. He was a serious man, and not so easily taken by fancy. But if he was ever aroused by Phryne, which was becoming the norm these days, it was nothing compared to now. He felt his erection pressing hard against the fabric of his trousers and he wondered just what he got himself into. His face, his whole body burned. Jack could barely allow himself to think, to advance his already dire condition. But oh what he wouldn't do to run his hands along her flesh, to have her buckle like that for him.

"Is everything alright?"

Jack turned suddenly, Mr. Butler's voice bringing him out of his trance.  
"I was just bringing some refreshments."

"Yes, of course." Jack managed, clearing his throat. He blocked the door with his back. "Miss Fisher will be out in a moment."

Mr. Butler smiled, "Ah."

Suddenly, the music came to a full stop and Phryne appeared at the door, guiding Jack to the side with a hand on his back.

"Should I set up in the parlor?"

"No," she smiled, taking the tray. "I think we'll have the drinks here. Right, Jack?"

Jack smiled his approval, cautiously following her into the room. She was still wearing the pink robe, now well secured around her body. Her hair was disheveled though, and when she poured his drink, he couldn't help but look at her hands.

"Everything alright?" She asked as she handed the glass, their hands touching for a split moment.

"Of course," he said, his best attempt at nonchalance.

Phryne smiled coyly, "Sorry for keeping you waiting."

Jack took a swig of his drink, swallowing hard. She approached him, trying to meet his gaze, her hands playing with the ties of her robe. Suddenly, it all made sense.

He furrowed his brow, disgruntled. "Why did you call me here, Miss Fisher?"

"Why, I wanted to tell you-"

"No, why did you _really_ call me here?"

Phryne smiled, her eyes boring into his mercilessly. She took a step towards him, her face mere inches from his own. Her hand stroked the collar of his jacket, then pressed against his chest.

"Your heart is beating fast." She said gently.

He inhaled, tried to calm his stirred nerves and disappointment. "Look, Phryne I'm not like your other male callers."

"I know," she cut him off.

"Then why set up this…performance?"

"Performance?" She exclaimed, "Jack dear, this wasn't-"

"Very well," he said, suddenly angered. "This is not a game, Phryne. I was under the impression that we had a professional partnership."

He set the glass onto the table and bid his goodbye. Phryne watched him descend the stairs, a dissatisfied frown on her face. Perhaps this was the wrong approach to seducing Jack.

"The Detective sure left in a hurry," Mr. Butler said as he poured her a cup of late evening tea. "Is everything alright? He seemed quite flustered."

"Oh Mr. Butler," Phryne sighed. "Perhaps everything isn't alright."

"Nothing a cup of strong tea can't fix." He smiled reassuringly.

"If only," She said pensively. An idea had struck her fancy then, and she rushed to fetch her coat. "Don't wait up for me, Mr. Butler!" she yelled as the front door slammed closed.

So she might have underestimated the situation. Had it been anyone but Jack, she'd be enjoying their gentle embrace. Though, to be entirely fair, had it not been Jack, she wouldn't be rushing this late in the evening to mend things. The truth of the matter was that she was scared. Men came and went in her life, and she enjoyed their company. Found it engaging on more than one level. But there was something growing in the pit of her stomach, something that warned to ruin her entirely.

And that something, that someone, was Jack Robinson. At first she figured it was all the time she was spending with him. Investigating crime is an intimate profession, one requiring lots of trust. And she trusted him. But things have been spiraling, so much so that she found herself harboring something more than trust. Even more than lust, she dared to admit.

Phryne parked her car in front of the station. She knew Jack better than to assume he'd fall for her cheap tricks, and now he was angry. Not angry enough to ruin everything, she hoped.

"Jack!" she called, her voice echoing dully through the station. He only took a moment to emerge from his office, face expression serious, eyebrows furrowed.

He said nothing.

"I knew I'd find you here." Phryne said, relieved.

He sighed. "What is it, Miss Fisher?"

"Look," she began. "I think I perhaps overstepped a boundary."

His lips tightened.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't _trying_ to seduce you for the sake of seduction."

"There's nothing to apologize for." He answered tensely, turning to leave.

She grabbed his arm, stalling. "It's not easy for me to admit that my usual practices may have been wasted on you. But, well, my intentions were pure."'

He exhaled dramatically. "They weren't wasted."

She cocked an eyebrow, then stopped herself from making light of the situation and sighed. "I can't promise forever. I never imagined I'd want to be tied to any man."

Jack frowned. "No need for explanations. I know as much, and expect nothing."

"And yet-"

"Let's keep this," he motioned to both of them. "Strictly business. For both of our sakes."

Phryne took a step back. She seemed irritated. "Is that really what you wish?"

He sighed, pausing before he spoke. "It's what's best."

"Who cares what's best, Jack? How can we know if we've never tried the alternative?"

"I know you don't get caught up by these things," He said. "And I respect that. I'd be lying if I said I felt nothing towards you, but we're both adults. Sometimes it's better to refrain than to regret."

"I'll regret not trying," She said simply. "No man has ever made me doubt my decision to die unattached. But the longer I know you, Jack, the more I consider it. It's foolish, and I might be wrong. That's why I can't promise. But by gods, I want to try."

He observed her, his eyes searching her face for any hints that this could be a fib, a practical joke.

"I'm being as truthful as I can be." She said, breaking the silence once more. He approached her tentatively, as though unsure of his own feet. Reached out to touch her face, leaning in to close the space between them. He watched as she closed her eyes, melting into the kiss, her hands twisting behind his neck. It was a slow kiss, measured and explorative. She tasted like whiskey, and he allowed himself to hold her, trace the sides of her body with his hands, the curve of her waist, the swell of her rear. They separated then, her hands still on his chest, looking up at him from behind her long lashes.  
"Are we all alone?" She asked innocently, and Jack furrowed his brows as what she meant dawned on him.

"Please don't get any ideas."

"Just one idea that you might find quite attractive," she said, pulling him by the arm. She lead him back into his office and closed the door. Then, without breaking eye contact, she climbed onto his desk.

"Phryne, this is my work desk." He said as he walked towards her, trying not to be distracted by how her skirt rode up way past her stockings and garter.

"All the better." She said coyly, pulling him in for a kiss. "You'll have something to remember tomorrow."

She had trapped him between her legs, pressing and rubbing against his already painful erection. Her hands, which had wandered all across his chest and back, were now pulling his shirt out of his trousers, tugging on his tie, undoing buttons. She moaned into his mouth as the friction between them became unbearable, and Jack had to exercise a lot of restraint to pull away. Phryne watched him remove the crisp white shirt, enjoying the spectacle of undressing all too much.

"Don't forget the trousers," she reminded.

He smirked. "I'll leave those for you."

Phryne didn't think he could be so tempting, his hard-wired countenance melting away in front of her eyes. Her body practically throbbed to be touched by him, so when he finally did, fingering the hem of her blouse, she nearly ripped it off her herself. His hands glided down her neck and shoulders, slowly and ever so lightly, and she clawed at his back, dragging her fingernails across the hot flesh. She couldn't stand not feeling all of him against her. Jack kissed her décolleté, ran his fingers along the edge of the brassiere.

"Oh just undo the bloody thing," she said irritably, and Jack obliged, unhooking it from the back and carefully pulling it off. She squirmed as he observed her perky breasts, kissing and massaging each one in turn. She threw her head back, supporting herself with her arms until she decided that removing his trousers was a higher priority. Phryne unbuckled his belt, taking her time, teasing him with the palm of her hand until he feared he might not hold out. Jack wasn't some schoolboy, but Phryne sure made him doubt his ability to contain himself. Finally, the trousers were out of the way. She leaned in to kiss down his happy trail and he had to hold onto the edge of the desk in anticipation. Her fingers brushed against the head of his erection, collecting the pre-cum that had gathered there. She looked him straight in the eye and licked it off her fingers.

"Phryne," he warned, and she shot him a coy smile.

There was a sudden loud bang, and footsteps echoed through the building.

"Quickly," he breathed at Phryne, who had already pulled on her blouse and skirt. He looked at her incredulously, and she shrugged. "Not the first time."

Outside, the noise became more pronounced.

"Wait here," she said, leaving the office and closing the door behind her.

"Miss Fisher?" Hugh said, stopping in his tracks. He looked at her curiously.

"Detective Inspector and I were just doing some late night brainstorming, Hugh." Phryne said matter-of-factly.

"Ah," he said, any hint of suspicion dispelled. "Has there been a new murder?"

She grimaced, "What are you doing here so late?"

"I'd forgotten my keys."

"Well fetch them," Phryne said, watching intently as Hugh moved around the station. "You're quite distracting to our thought process."

Hugh nodded, leaving as soon as the key was in his hand.

She returned to the office, smiling. "Now where were we, Jack?"


End file.
